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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29291058">Today, a Wedding</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimitztlazohtla/pseuds/Nimitztlazohtla'>Nimitztlazohtla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star vs. The Forces Of Evil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Marriage, Relationship Negotiation, Wedding Night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:02:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29291058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimitztlazohtla/pseuds/Nimitztlazohtla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruberiot finds that it's all too easy to settle into a routine. Foolduke disagrees.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Foolduke/Ruberiot (Star vs. The Forces Of Evil)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Today, a Wedding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“In sickness and in health, ‘Til death do we part, Through pirate attacks, monster raids, and corn famine, I do!”</p>
<p>The congregation broke into cheers, people from all walks of life all joined together in celebration of this historic union. Together at the rear of the masses, Ruberiot smiled at his wife, who was still engrossed in the show. He’d tried not to tear up, but eh, what can you do? His dear, dramatic artist’s heart could hardly handle it all. “Wow. I can’t believe how old we’ve gotten, eh?”</p>
<p>“Old shmold.” Foolduke stuck her tongue out at him, leaning on his shoulder. “I’m hardly, like, thirty. Thirty-five-ish, <em> tops </em>. You sap.”</p>
<p>“Thirty’s old! Thirty’s way old for an entertainer! I can feel my joints popping.”</p>
<p>“That’s not old! As for your joints, maybe you could try working out any muscle other than those lute-fingers.<em> ” </em> She flourished. “I could snap you like a twig.”</p>
<p>“You <em> could, </em>but—"</p>
<p>Foolduke’s warm hand caught his stubbled chin and Ruberiot immediately shut up. They held like that for a moment, and in that moment, Ruberiot just felt at home. “...Hey, Rubie dear? Would you mind pulling the lever already and gettin’ this all over with already? Like, before the bride and groom quit smooching?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Dukie, it could take days.”</p>
<p>“Stop calling me that.”</p>
<p>Ruberiot winked and stuck his tongue out before pulling the lever. The smell of black powder filled the air as confetti popped and fireworks whistled and burst in the air, the cheers of the crowd reaching a new, revitalized height. Then, finally, the banner unfurled—<em> "CONGRATULATIONS, STAR AND MARCO BUTTERFLY-DIAZ!” </em></p>
<p>Oh corn, he <em> loved loved loved </em> a good wedding.</p>
<p>———-</p>
<p>After the <em> fireworks </em> was always the reception. Copious drinking, dancing, eating, puking, <em> jamming. </em> Ruberiot’s band had broken out into one of Love Sentence’s hits while the dancefloor filled to the brim, the mass constantly making way for its star duo, swirling around the room together in their enchantment. Now, however well Ruberiot knew these particular two (And <em> pretty much </em> set them up together to begin with if you think about it, no matter what the bride might say), he wasn’t one to play favorites. He was here for the <em> art </em> (and only a bit for the money) <em> , </em> and even if these nights weren’t exactly all about him, well, at least he was making little Ruberiot-shaped marks on the most important nights of people’s lives, and sometimes that’s the most you can ask for. <em> Way </em> better gig than writing Princess songs for a living, at any rate.</p>
<p>He shot a toothy smile towards Foolduke from across the room, busy spouting jokes at a growing crowd near the corner. She was occupied, mouth running a mile a minute while she juggled. That was her; she took her work more seriously than anyone else he knew.</p>
<p>And honestly, with Foolduke at his side, what else could he ask for? They were a team—they were an <em> item. </em>Not since they served Queen Moon back on Mewni could you get one without the other, a fool without a bard, or vice-versa. And with that little bit of spice, Ruberiot himself could hardly imagine them apart anymore. Funny, witty, driven.</p>
<p>She really was kinda incredible.</p>
<p>He felt it before he saw it, Foolduke’s little white money snaking its way up his leg. The little guy had grown on him a lot over the past near-decade (how long do monkeys live again?), and judging by the fact that these days it stole from him less often than ever before, it seemed to finally be liking him back.</p>
<p>“Hey little friend, what’s going on?” He asked as it clambered beneath his strumming arm, “You got another wallet? Because if so, you gotta drop it. I don’t think I can take another lawsui—”</p>
<p>It hissed and knocked roughly on his head, and Ruberiot frowned as he followed its pointing finger. Foolduke was gone—wait, Foolduke was gone? She’d been there hardly a minute ago, and the crowd she’d been entertaining hadn’t even dispersed yet. Was this some kind of new disappearing act? Or...</p>
<p>The monkey shook him. Right, wife comes first, wife comes first.</p>
<p>“Sorry, gotta go!” Ruberiot shoved his lute into the hands of the starry-eyed keytarist before dropping off the stage, not noticing as the monkey made off with his own wallet. He immediately hit trouble in weaving through all the throngs who were dancing all around, who he saw now, up-close, that none had noticed the absence of the lutist. Somehow, that was an insult. But he’d taken worse hits to his ego. Song Day, anyone?</p>
<p>His worry had been about to totally boil over when he jogged right out into the summer night, the revelry of the wedding distant beneath the sleepy, ambient rustling of palm leaves.</p>
<p>He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Foolduke! Foolduke?”</p>
<p>“I’m literally right here, Rubes.”</p>
<p>His own hat-feather hit him in the face as he spun. There she was, leaning beside the entrance with a gleam of surprise in her eyes. Whew. </p>
<p>“Uh… Hey,” he said. He felt all flushed for some reason—He’d been really worried, and he couldn’t really put a finger on why. Where in the world could she have gone in five minutes, after all? Sometimes a fool just needed a break! But, even so... “Are you feeling okay?”</p>
<p>Foolduke’s gaze flitted away. “Eh. You know. Fine. Go back to the party, I’ll catch up.”</p>
<p>Ruberiot sighed, furrowing his brow. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”</p>
<p>“Was that a pun?”</p>
<p>“Come on. What’s the matter?”</p>
<p>Foolduke pursed her lips and tensed even more, and for some reason the bard felt like he was about to choke on his own tongue.. “Fine,” she said, “If it means so much, then I’ll tell you. ...I just don’t think it’s working out.”</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>She went on. “You were right earlier, you know. We’re too <em> old </em> for this. I’m not <em> just </em> an entertainer, Rubes, I’m a <em> fool! </em> And a damned good one! I don’t <em> just </em> juggle, I’m not <em> just </em> a weirdo with a monkey! I gotta express myself! I gotta get vulgar! I gotta <em> satirize!” </em> She threw her arms into the air. “And I… I just can’t <em> do </em> these gigs anymore! It keeps the lights on, but we’re not <em> going </em> anywhere! If I gotta make one more balloon puppy for one more greasy little kid, I’m gonna freak!”</p>
<p>She spun back to him. “That’s why I’m <em> done </em> with these part-time gigs! I know you like them, but the two of us? We’re so much more than Echo Creek! I can be official Cabinet Jester for the president! You can write her speeches! We can conquer the world together, you hear me! Me, you, and…are you crying?”</p>
<p>He sniffled, and rubbed his eyes into his sleeve. “N-no.”</p>
<p>Foolduke stared for a moment before her eyes shot wide open. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! Rubes, I didn’t mean it that way! Shhh, hey, c’mere, okay?”</p>
<p>Oh, thank corn, he had actually been about to die. Ruberiot didn’t resist as his wife wrapped her arms around him, and he reciprocated, a shaky breath escaping him as he dabbed at his eyes some more. The ground still felt kind of wobbly. “S-sorry, Foolduke.”</p>
<p>Her laugh exposed all her own nervousness, and she rubbed slow circles over his back. How long had she been holding onto all this? “Hey, don’t be like that, okay? That was my fault. I’m not a poet like you are. I goof up too!”</p>
<p>“No, I mean… I’m <em> sorry.” </em> Gosh, now he was just feeling inadequate. He could never compete with Foolduke’s hugs (he’d probably starve to death here if she didn’t disengage first), but he was trying his best. “I—I think you’re totally right. We’ve been doing this for a really long time. And… I think it’s time that we really broaden ourselves, you know? I’m sorry that I’ve been stringing you along for the ride all this time, Foolduke. I just kinda got… lost in it.”</p>
<p>They pulled apart finally, and Ruberiot saw all the starry night sky in his wife’s eyes—just like their own wedding night, huh? “Hey, Ruberiot? For what it’s worth, even if I got tired of it all in the end… this whole part of our careers was still a ton of fun.”</p>
<p>“Heh.” He jingled a bell on her hat. “I’d hope. ...So, do you maybe wanna ditch this place? I think Britta’s is still open.”</p>
<p>He just about saw fireworks in her eyes. “What? Really? I mean heck yeah, but are you sure?”</p>
<p>“Of course! Monkey’s been in the gig long enough to know how to run the rest of the show, anyways.” Foolduke chuckled as he kissed her.</p>
<p>“Yeaahh! Watch out, future! Cabinet Jesterhood, here we come!”</p>
<p>Ruberiot laughed with her. The street lay empty before them as they walked together, arms linked, and all thoughts of the party far behind them. “Can you imagine the look on Mime Girl’s face when we show up to her office after all this time? She’s <em> gotta </em> hire us!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just love this couple, what can I say? Criticism is always welcome. Written for the February writing contest at /r/StarvstheForcesofEvil.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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